Finding Someone Gone
by Kesa Ange
Summary: The world ended long ago and started once more, but Narugami can't fight the feeling that something - or someone - might be missing.
1. Prologue

_A/N: T__his story is a pseudo-sequel to Narugami's Ragnarok, in that it is set after Ragnarok (a.k.a. the end of the world). You don't need to read Narugami's Ragnarok to understand it, though._

_As always, Sakura Kinoshita is a genius whose characters I have kidnapped and forced to do my bidding. DANCE, my puppets, DANCE!!_

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He tossed and turned in his bed, remembering Ragnarok. It had been three years since it had happened. They had died, everything had died, but just like the coil of Jormagund around Midgard life had just turned in a circle. They had all returned and the world had begun anew.

He himself had returned from the dark void of Hel and restarted. Life was new, the world was new, everyone had come back, he should have been happy.

But he wasn't. A voice, voices, haunted him in his sleep. Images, strangers, and a feeling he had lost something, something important.


	2. Chapter 1

Narugami woke late on Sunday morning and checked the watch drawn on his wrist, grinned because he hadn't slept in, and went back to sleep. Ten minutes later he woke up again with a shock, and this time he checked the digital clock on his desk. His fingers scrabbled for the phone he kept near the bed for situations like this, and he yawned as he tried to recall his girlfriend's phone number.

He didn't have time to eat breakfast again and he sleepily chewed on his fingers and he searched underneath the bed for his wooden sword. As his fingers closed around it he stood up and wobbled, slowly becoming himself again. Better than breakfast, was his Mjollnir-or maybe not. It depended whether meat was for breakfast. He checked the time on his wrist again and darted out the door, before sheepishly coming back through the door to check the clock again. This time he managed to grab his keys and wallet before leaving, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. As he trotted down to the local shops he yawned and glanced at his wrist again. This watch was becoming more impractical everyday. And, come to think of it, he couldn't remember quite why he had decided to draw a watch on his wrist with pen anyway.

As he reached the corner market a smile greeted him, bright and cheerful, a girl with pink hair bouncing. "Mayura!" He grinned, sweeping her up for a kiss. She giggled. "Narugami!" If someone asked him how he and Mayura had met, Narugami briefly thought, he wouldn't be able to quite explain. It had been after Ragnarok, he was fairly sure, or maybe before; they might have gone to the same school. The times before and after the rebirth of the world blurred in his mind. It didn't seem to matter, though, he pondered, as Mayura's hair tickled his face. Why was he thinking about all this now? Live in the moment.

Mayura looked at him over her spiral glasses. "Narugami, come over to my place! Let's solve a mystery!" Maybe that's how they had met? Mayura had always had an obsession with mysteries. Had it been her mystery club?

These questions brought up even more confusion in Narugami's memories. What had he been doing in the human world in the first place? But again, his thoughts turned to the moment here and now. What had Mayura just said?

He smiled. "Mayura, I don't even _like_ solving mysteries!" It was true. Mysteries had never really bothered him; he'd always expected that they would solve themselves in due time. They were a fascinating idea, though, something unknown and inexplicable… he'd known someone, a long time ago, likely before Ragnarok, who'd been interested in mysteries. Hadn't he?

But that wasn't the problem here. Mysteries were all well and fine, and interesting, but solving them was something he'd never been any good at. He gave up too easily without enough motivation. And Mayura had never been good at solving them either – when she could find them, at least. But she'd found one – he may as well track along. They hadn't been on a date in a while, and he could buy Mayura an expensive lunch afterwards.

"Oh, come on!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him along behind her. He followed, like a puppy, clutching his sword, wearing a clumsy grin.

A block away from Mayura's house a huge mansion had supposedly existed; everyone had heard the stories, even Narugami, who avoided local legend on the basis that it was going to be nowhere near as cool as his own local legends – or perhaps because they could be cooler than his own local legends. Now the mansion was in ruins. A tall gate shadowed the stained pavement, but it was beginning to rust into nothing.

"Come on, Narugami! I've always wanted to investigate this place!" He paused, staring up at the looming, ruined building. "Mayura, this place is really eerie…"

She ignored him, like she always did when he said something that she agreed with but didn't want to admit. He had to admit, that was one of the things he loved about her.

"Look! A sign! What's it say?"

Narugami sighed and went over to where Mayura was ogling a faded, weatherstripped sign. Letters had been worn off and he had to squint, making out each letter with a finger.

"En….u De…c…i…e A…n…y. Enu Decie Any."

"Wow! A strange language! Come on, let's go in!!"

Without a look back, Mayura went into possibly the most dangerous and hazardous and haunted looking building Narugami had ever seen. And because it wasn't in his nature to ignore a maiden's invitation – wasn't it? – he followed.


	3. Chapter 2

There was an eerie silence once they entered the ruins. Narugami found himself wondering what had happened to the place. It looked like it really had been an ancient mansion, but it had probably just been a big house. In this day and age, no-one could really afford a mansion, not the sort of person who'd been living in a part of the city like this. It hadn't been burned down, because there was no ash or charcoal anywhere, but it hadn't been knocked down; the destruction was too natural for that, with ivy climbing over blunt, broken pieces of wall. It seemed to have just decayed, over a long, long time. Naturally falling apart.

"Mayura, I really don't like this place…"

"Oh, come on, Narugami!"

He heard a crunch. Under his foot were crushed pieces of china – a teacup and saucer, white with blue stripes around the rims. It looked… modern. Not incredibly stainless-steel modern, but it seemed to be younger than how old the house seemed.

"Mayura…"

He took another step. This time, he heard glass cracking. A pair of glasses with black rims was under his foot. The lenses had already crumbled, but as he stepped on them the shattered glass was ground into fine pieces.

"Narugami! There's still food in the kitchen!" He shivered. This was… strange. It was as if the occupants of the house had suddenly been whipped away, without warning, as their house aged and decayed around them. Or they had been running, or trying to get away…

A photo hung lopsided on the wall. A young man with glasses - the glasses he had stepped on? - and black hair tied back stood next to a young black-haired woman wearing a black dress. They were smiling.

In front of them stood a serious looking kid with red-brown hair, carefully lifting a small black dog to the camera as it barked. It looked like a normal family photo- a mother, a father, their son, and a pet dog.

"Mayura?" he called. She responded faintly, from some far-off room: "Yeah?"

"Can we… can we go now?"

She came down the stairs, a beautiful gold necklace clutched in her hands.

"Look at it, Narugami! Isn't it pretty?"

He grabbed her wrist. "Mayura! Don't go poking around other people's stuff! Put it back and let's get out of here." Mayura looked away and said, sounding upset, "Anyone who lived here is probably dead anyway!" Then she turned and ran up the rickety stairs.

"Mayura-" he called and followed her up. He was always reminding himself that her feelings were easily hurt, and then forgetting again. Well, he wasn't the god of Tact, after all. Not much he could do but be heavy-handed with every situation.

A large room, possibly a study, was at the end of the hallway that the stairs lead to. The far wall had a huge window that looked over the front gate. It looked like it had been melted in extreme heat…a rotted wooden desk stood in front of it, with a tall chair right behind it. The other walls were covered in old bookshelves, filled with dusty books.

The floor was littered with rubbish, the remnants of a chandelier wearing a heavy coating of dust and the area below it spotted with fallen and shattered glass pendants. What might have been a fireplace had crumbled with disuse, and the couches around it sported layers of soot, ash and more dust. They were filled with moth-eaten holes.

Mayura stood in a corner next to a rotted chest of drawers. One drawer was open, and she was carefully putting the necklace inside onto a mound of old silky looking material. Her eyes were shiny with tears and she blinked quickly. Narugami took a step towards her and heard another crunch. Another blue and white tea cup and saucer. Was it part of a set?

"Mayura, I'm sorry, it's just that this place freaks me out… can we get out of here?"

She looked up. "Yeah, okay, let's go," she said in a quiet voice, face looking fallen.

He walked over to her, near the desk, and paused. It felt as though he had stood at the same place, an eternity ago. Reaching out to a face down photograph he picked it up and glanced at the photo.

Narugami froze, and it slipped through his fingers to hit the desk. The glass on the frame shattered.

Mayura ran over to the desk and leaned over it towards him. With a creak one leg collapsed and the table fell into itself, a pile of mouldy and rotten wood on the stained floor.

Narugami knelt and sifted through the remains of the desk, leaning against the chair. It fell to its side and broke into two pieces.

He grabbed the photo from the pieces of the frame and glass.


	4. Chapter 3

Narugami stared at the dusty photo. His fingers vainly tried to wipe away the scuffs and scratches as he blew away the years coating its surface.

It had the same young man and woman from the photo downstairs, and the little kid was there with the black dog sitting next to him, panting or barking. Next to the kid was a smiling little girl, with curly black hair, and behind the man and woman stood three teenagers, girls. Two of them had blond hair, one short, one with pigtails, and the other had long black hair.

Standing a little to the side was another kid, short purple-striped hair that was cut as to cover one of his eyes. He was crossing his arms, glaring at the kid with the red hair with a frown. Behind the three teen girls, right at the back, stood more: another teen, a guy, who was quite handsome, looking over at the short girl at the front with a stupid grin on his face. The other two – the other two were him. And Mayura.

It looked like a party shot, or a celebration, like a big group of people who had been friends for ages and knew each other well. Narugami could name most of them.

The three teen girls were Skuld, Verdandi, and Urd, all the Norns, and the guy was obviously Frey. The little girl was Reiya, and the guy with the purple hair was Heimdall.

But the others didn't fit in. The little group in the middle, the man, woman, boy and dog, he didn't know them. He couldn't remember a photograph being taken of all eight of them together, at any point. Even if anyone wanted to, everyone would never agree. After Ragnarok everyone had split up and spent their time glaring at whoever it had been who killed them during Ragnarok. Narugami wished they would just grow up. It was only one little death, right?

"Narugami! What're you looking at?" Wordlessly, Narugami handed the photo to Mayura. She wouldn't be much help, he thought, since she wasn't part of their – he laughed as he thought about it – part of their gang. But spreading around the fear in him at the moment could only help, right?

"Oh, look! It's Mister Mystery Thief, and Reiya, and…" she cut off. "What's a photo of everyone doing in this ruin? And who are these four people? The kid, and his pet, and the man, and the woman?" She looked up at Narugami. "It's a mystery, isn't it?! Who these people are…" "Yeah, Mayura. It's a mystery for you to solve." Trust him to dump solving the mystery on Mayura instead of solving it himself. It was more his mystery than hers, and he felt guilty for dumping his – family's – problems on his girlfriend.

She leapt up, grabbing his hand and pulling him up with her. "Come on, Narugami! Let's explore the house for clues!" He laughed. Well, at least she was excited about it. Something helpful might even turn up.

"Okay, fine! To start us off, I'd say that those four owns this house. There's another photo of them downstairs." She gave a wide grin. "Let's go!"

In the kitchen they found a black ribbon wrapped around the handle of one of the drawers. He carefully unwound it. "Maybe it's the ribbon the man used to tie his hair back?" It was a silly idea, because why would anyone keep their hair ribbon on a cupboard handle? It was as if someone was setting out clues to lead them to a final discovery, but Narugami wasn't sure if he even wanted to make that final discovery. Some things, he thought, were meant to not be understood, or answered.

There were two thicker, white ribbons – or something like ribbons – looped around the staircase banister. The ribbon the woman's hair was done up with, and the bow tie the kid was wearing? Narugami checked the ribbons against the photo. Yeah, they were definitely theirs. He pocketed all three of the ribbons and the photo. He would ask the others, tomorrow.

This sent a bitter smile across his face. It had been years since they had talked, tactfully avoiding each other and trying not to think too hard about why they were there in the first place – no-one seemed to know what they were doing on Earth, but no-one ever talked about it or questioned why it was as it was.


	5. Chapter 4

The three Norns were living nearby, last Narugami heard, so they visited them first.

Urd blinked. "You want us to look at a photo? Well, alright, I suppose. Hand it over." She examined the photograph of the four and frowned. "I'm not sure who they are, but…. They seem familiar, nonetheless. Why don't you ask Verdandi?" Narugami was quite fond of Verdandi; he had thought she was beautiful until he had met Mayura. He asked her.

"It's someone… someone's family, a small family, that Odin… doesn't like. He hates-hated? Hates them." "Are they… dead?" Verdandi paused. "They-I'm not sure. I think they might be… No, I don't think they are….I-I can't tell." She seemed a little embarrassed by her uncertainty, and quickly added: "Why don't you ask Skuld?"

Skuld reached down and touched the child's serious face. "I remember… something…. I had a pair of little… red boots. I don't know who they are, who he is, but… my red boots. And Narugami? You're the clue and the person who can find the answer. And he's the biggest hint you are going to get – if you continue this way. Whether or not you should, however, is something no-one can know."

Narugami looked down at the solemn, smiling faces. When this photo was taken, did they know Odin hated them? They must have been gods – Odin didn't bother with humans. Had he known them? Where had they gone? Where were they now? He went to the flat that Heimdall and Frey shared. Frey was bitter, now, but Heimdall had inexplicably cheered up since Ragnarok and was now positively friendly.

Frey glanced at the photo. "I haven't the faintest," he said, then was distracted. "Hey, Narugami, is my Japanese beauty still with you?"

Heimdall snatched the photograph from him. "My eye. The kid did something – something to my eye. Or something about my eye. I can't remember anything else." He glared at the photo for a moment.

Reiya was next. Her house was small, and cute, suitable for the god of love, Narugami thought. He knelt down to look her in the eye. "Reiya, have you seen any of these people before?" The young girl prodded the woman's face. "She ate all of my vegetables…the ones I gave so much water… They were special…" then she looked at the kid. "He…he…."

Reiya blinked, and suddenly Freya was standing in her place. "I… I loved him. And then…. Then I tried to kill him."

Narugami looked incredulously at the photo with a befuddled expression. "You loved the little kid?"

"There was something more to him. More than his appearance."


	6. Chapter 5

_A/N: It's been…a year since the last chapter and the note that claimed this chapter would be up in a few days. 'Three days' I think it said. Well, slightly over a year. But at least it's here…more notes at the bottom of the chapter. I hope you're all still interested in the story!_

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Well, that had been a waste of time. So Skuld had a shoe obsession, Frey was still chasing after Narugami's girlfriend, and apparently Freya had been a paedophile in a past life. Narugami sighed and massaged his forehead. This was getting ridiculous. Perhaps he should just dump the entire plan and try to forget about the damned mystery – but the voice he heard echoing in his ears every moment of every day had grown louder and louder since the whole damn thing had started. And it was only then that he realised the worst part – he hadn't gone to a single one of his part-time jobs since he had met Mayura at the shops and they had gone to the, the house.

He leapt from his bed (still unmade, sheets and blankets tossed carelessly around the room and phone left off the hook by the bed since the phone call he had made oh-so-long-ago, but oh-so-comfortable for thinking on), tried to grab anything within arm's reach that might possibly be vaguely useful at some point in the future, and ended up with an armful of tissues, lint, and scraps of paper. His wallet and keys were left behind because they had been just a few centimetres too far away for him to even notice that he had forgotten them.

On the other hand, as he dashed out, he was proud of himself for remembering to tuck his wooden sword into his belt as a last moment action. The placing meant that he was stabbed in the thigh with every step that he took, but he convinced himself that the sharp stabbing feeling was invigorating. it was so invigorating that by the time he reached the café (ten minutes later) he was practically jogging on the spot with energy and a desire to stop being stabbed.

It wasn't until he had gone inside and was about to sneak behind the counter so that no-one would notice his late appearance that he had to stop and consider what the hell he was doing.

Sure the café was nice. He'd have to bring Mayura here some time – his treat. They hadn't been out for lunch for a while. But that wasn't the point. Why was he getting all panicked? A part-time job? What was he on about? Narugami sat down straight on the floor and tried to work out what he was doing there.

He vaguely recalled having some sort of part-time job responsibilities before Ragnarok, something about needing money for something else, or maybe just needing some way to keep busy. He couldn't recall. But the idea that he'd have any sort of money problems now was almost laughable. After all, he was here by _choice_, right? For Mayura, and other things. And he was being provided for, by – he couldn't say _people_ and be one hundred percent honest, so he just left it at that. He was being provided for. He didn't need a part-time job. Nor did he want one. Instead he called Mayura and organised to meet her at the café in half an hour.

It wasn't a big deal. Sometimes you just got confused like that, got your past life and your current life all mixed up. Apparently Frey had done it repeatedly (or so he'd heard). And it was probably just coincidence that he himself had gotten all mixed up at the same time as the whole mess with the kid and his family and the photos and the house and the others and…he needed some sort of break from all this. Maybe he'd go home. But for now he had to hang tight and wait for Mayura (it's impolite to organise something and then cancel it – someone had taught him that, once upon a time).

Narugami sat down at a table with a good view, not bothering to find a waitress or check if the table was taken. Then he started to absent-mindedly fiddle with the salt and pepper shakers as he tried one more time to see if he could remember the kid in the photo at all, even vaguely. Or really, any of the strangers in the photograph. One of them, the tall one with the glasses and the ribbon (that's right, the apparent 'father' of the family) stirred up confusing and strange feelings of guilt and, and hunger. Which was odd. He wiped his mouth quickly and looked down at the table.

A snake. He'd taken the top of the salt shaker and poured the entire container of salt onto the table to make the shape of a snake, then dotted its eyes in with pepper. How the hell, why the _hell_ had he made a snake out of condiments all over his table, while he was thinking, while he was absentmindedly fiddling with whatever was in his hands, while he was paying no attention whatsoever to anything but his thoughts: he had made a snake.

Narugami stared at the twisted snake on the table, and then picked up the pepper pot and removed its lid. It was almost as if he wasn't in control of his hand as he carefully poured the pepper onto the table and formed it into a small, short line – a man, he decided it was, looking at the shape, a man staring up at the tall snake, and in one outstretched hand holding something long and thin, pointing towards the snake…

It was him. It didn't look like him (well, it was a few lines formed from pepper, so there wasn't much chance of it looking like anything else) but he knew when he stared down at the table it was him, holding out Mjollnir, about to attack and presumably kill…a giant snake. What.

He was roused from his air of bewilderment by the light touch of Mayura's hand on his shoulder and the tickle of her hair as she bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

"Oh! Mayura! I didn't see you coming!"

"I snuck up! I saw you distracted and thought I would surprise you!"

"Well you did…sit down, I'll get us some food…"

He turned around to see if he could spot a waitress and almost leapt out of his chair when he saw a vaguely familiar waitress standing right behind his chair, staring down at the table in front of him and tightly clutching the menus in her hands. And were there – oh, man, there were _tears_ in her eyes. And she was pretty cute. Aw man. He had never been good with girls.

"Are you oka-" he began to ask, and then recognised her. Aw, man.

It was the girl from the photograph. The one he had pegged as being the 'mother' – the young black-haired woman in the dress, and she was turning, fleeing, into the back of the café. He didn't have a choice – he left Mayura sitting at the table, and ran after the waitress, calling out.

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_Further A/N: I'm aware this chapter is a little strange and I'm planning on going back over it in a few days to fix it up; I just wanted to get it online as soon as possible because I suddenly felt really, really guilty…heh._

_I need some reader advice! I know I rewrite this entire story last year…but looking over it now I think maybe I should…re-rewrite it? What do you think about all the previous chapters? Let me know._

_And if anyone's confused, this story is set after Ragnarok (the end of the world in Norse mythology) and during Ragnarok Narugami/Thor killed Yamino/Jormagundr (my other story 'Narugami's Ragnarok' is about this, so hey if you're curious, please check it out!)_

_Thankyou for reading! You are all wonderful people._


	7. Chapter 6

The girl had escaped through the kitchen, leaving pages of the menus that had been in her hands scattered over the tiled floor. Two chefs and several waiters were staring dazedly towards the back exit, leaving pots and pans unattended. Narugami dashed after her through the mess, calling out vague apologies to the people left in his wake. As he ran he fumbled with Mjollnir, twisting it out of his belt and trying to whip it out without making too much noise (the situation was highly suspicious and he didn't want the waitress to know that he was armed and dangerous).

As he paused and looked around, trying to work out exactly where it was that she had gone, he begun to wonder. What was she doing here? Was she supporting that family from the photo with a full-time waitress gig? If so he could definitely give her some tips on the best-paying places in the area. He could vaguely recall from half-faded memories that this place paid barely a pittance, and was sure that if he sat down and carefully considered it he'd be able to come up with better ways of earning a living (though he hoped that the other older man from the photo was supporting the family, too, because he didn't really approve of a man making his partner do all the work in a relationship; it was not in Narugami's nature to allow a maiden to do his work for him).

But this was ridiculous. Yes, she was a maiden, but a ridiculous maiden! A mystery maiden! Turning up from nowhere, crying over spilt salt, and refusing to explain what exactly she was doing even existing without any of them knowing who in the name of Odin she was. He wanted to hit something with Mjollnir, just wave it around and maybe dent some lightposts, get out some of the stress and confusion he had found himself in (which was a rare situation for him; usually he just stuck things through until they started to make sense, or threatened to hit other people until they made it make sense for him. It was an unusual change for him to go out and explode with anger and bewilderment at the way things were).

But there she was! At the back of the kitchen were two tall doors opening to a back street, with two round windows set high up in the frames. There was a flash of movement passing by the windows and he told himself off. Of course she'd go out the back, of course, why wasn't he thinking…

Narugami shoved the doors open with firm hands, standing framed in the wide doorway facing out into an alley. And there she was, the tall, dark-haired girl, nothing like his shorter, slender Mayura, almost her exact opposite, crouched against the dirty wall with her arms wrapped around her legs and head resting on her knees, looking at him through teary eyes. She hadn't moved when he had barrelled through the door but now that he was just standing and staring, she raised her head a little and he saw a tiny scrap of fabric clutched tightly in her right hand.

"Was he…brave?" she said, in a withdrawn, quiet voice like a sigh, mouth barely moving. "I wanted to be there, but he wouldn't let me. I don't think…" the words seemed to be a strain for her, and she stopped. He couldn't just watch her cry. Was it his fault?

"What's your name?" He didn't move. She wiped her eyes and smiled.

"Spica." When she smiled, the world seemed better, brighter. Then she stopped. "He was scared of you, for so long. But he had no choice… I will make it better." Spica held onto the scrap tighter, her knuckles turning white. "I promised them. I will make it better." Her voice petered out weakly and she stood and turned away from him.

"This wasn't the place I was meant to have. But for _him_, I will do it. I will do anything." She turned her face to look back at him and the look of determination in his eyes stunned him. "What will you do? He said you'd forget him, but I don't think you could. I don't think anyone could. And," she added, "I don't want to see you again."

She was twisting the fabric round and round her fingers, unable to let go, and he caught a glimpse of dark ribbon. "I do my duty," Spica sighed once more, and Narugami had the feeling that she didn't usually talk this much to strangers as she walked away.

"Wait! What do you want me to-" he called out after her, utterly bewildered, but at the sound of his voice she lowered her head and began to sprint away from him. He could have chased her and demanded that she start making sense but she made him feel uncomfortable, like she was both afraid of him and wanted to like him at the same time.

Narugami didn't like the way that this random girl had turned up, been cryptic at him, and then run off. It complicated things, and he didn't like complications. At all. He wanted…urgh. He didn't know what he wanted. He wanted someone to sit down with him and explain what in the name of Odin was going on here. He knew he wasn't incredibly clever, but most of the time he got along perfectly alright because of a sense of hard work, decency, and good aim with bolts of lightning. It was only times when the whole damn world didn't make sense that lightning and thunder didn't help.

Maybe flinging some thunder around would make him feel better, he pondered. It generally did.

"Narugami?" Mayura called from behind him. _Damn_. Now he felt real chivalrous, taking her out for a nice meal and then running off after an admittedly cute stranger.

"Sorry, Mayura, I-"

"So what was that? A mystery?" Her excitement was palpable. "Was she a murderer?" she asked knowingly.

"What? No! Just someone I…used to know. Never mind. Let's go eat."

"Well…okay, then! I wanted to tell you about this wedding we've been invited to! And it's…sort of….fancy dress!"

_A/N: Points to anyone who works out what the wedding might be a reference to. And thanks for reading!_


	8. Chapter 7

_A/N: I'm afraid that if you're not familiar with Norse mythology you're going to find this chapter very, very strange. If you _are_, you'll probably find it very, very strange too. Dedicated to anyone who's been reading this story since the beginning. (Anyone?)_

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There was something inexplicably familiar about this situation, he thought, as Mayura rifled through his small wardrobe and babbled pleasantly about the sort of wedding _she_ would have, one day, when she met the right man.

"And a big white dress with a cake shaped like a panda, and Papa would have to be in charge because…hey, Narugami, why do you think they chose to have a Western wedding instead of a Japanese one? We'll have to go buy a dress…Why are all your clothes so _big?_ Anyway…"

Couldn't she have worked that out? Of course his clothes were too big for her! Why did she have to accept the wedding invite, anyway?

"Maybe you could go in my school uniform…"

And it was supposed to be a cross-dressing wedding! That wasn't manly! That wasn't the sort of wedding a god like him should be invited to attend! But when Mayura had described it excitedly at the café the day before, he'd seen the light in her eyes, and, well…maidens. He was sick of all these maidens. One request from a girl like Mayura and he'd turn into a doormat.

"Narugami?" She turned around, clutching a motheaten suit in her hands. There had to be _some_ benefits to being a god, and one of them meant that he didn't worry about clothes very much. Things like that sorted themselves out around him, without him bothering himself at all. But the suit she had found clearly needed a good helping of godhood to be ever wearable again.

"Narugami, what sort of clothes are these?" She held the dress up to her face. "Do you _ever_ get dressed up? You know, you're too old for that school uniform now!" Mayura giggled and pointed to his current clothes.

"But I look good in it!" That was true, at least. Mayura laughed and buried herself back into his wardrobe. It was so easy for him to find a look that worked, and stick with it. But it had been a few years now since he had left that school…maybe it was time to change.

Mayura started to hum as she dug through the layers of clothes stashed in the closet. Narugami really was impressed: she threw herself into everything she did as though it was the only thing that mattered in her life. Just days ago she had been searching haunted houses for the secret to the universe –

"Mayura?"

"Mm?"

"…nothing."

"Mm."

No, he couldn't ask her about what she thought was going on. Clearly, it was something about _them_ – him, Heimdall, Frey, the Norns…and this Spica, whoever she was.

Spica? Was that right? Could that Spica girl from the café be an important part of this whole mystery?

Urgh, it really was a mystery. Mysteries had never been his thing. He would always leave the mysteries to –

To…

Why did so many of his sentences end like that now? Like something important was missing, slipping through his fingers while he looked the other way and pretended not to notice? Something had changed, something important about who he was and what he was doing had changed…ever since he had gone into that house, and stepped on the shattered memories on the floor, and crushed them further into dust. That Enu Decie Any building.

Argh! He couldn't stand it any more. Mysteries were the business of Mayura and _that guy_ and his job was just to turn up and cheer everyone up. Mysteries were_ not his thing!_

Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait. _What?_

He must have made some kind of strangled sound, because Mayura looked back at him over her shoulder quizically, one eyebrow raised. Narugami managed enough self-control to shake his head a little and Mayura shrugged and turned back to the incredibly important task at hand.

What had he been thinking when his brain let something slip? 'Mayura and "that guy"'?

Oh man, he needed to go back to the beginning and work everything out, piece by piece, step by step. There was a house. Yeah. An old house, kinda falling apart. Lots of broken stuff everywhere. There was a family photo in the house, and no people. That girl, Spica, the waitress, she had been in that photo. Okay, good so far. Spica was trying to 'do her duty' for someone. Presumably someone from the photo, someone from her family. She wasn't old enough to be a mother, he didn't think, so maybe a brother, or a sister.

Now, clearly the most important person from the photo was the little kid, the one with the dog who had been standing next to Reiya. He was the one that everyone had pointed out, that everyone had thought they recognised. Was he the one Spica wanted to do her duty for? Maybe he was her younger brother.

Okay, okay. Progress, great. He tried not to be distracted by Mayura's pose as she went head-first through the closet, near to giving up judging by the irritated sounds she was making. He was so close to…something.

Now, his most recent thought, Mayura and 'that guy' with their business of solving mysteries. That was definitely related. So was 'that guy' someone else from the photo? Had to be. He wracked his brains trying to remember everyone from the photo that he didn't know.

Obviously it couldn't be the kid. So…(unless it was the dog)…it was the older guy? The one who wore the glasses? That might guy with the glasses – the family father, right? – liked to solve mysteries, and Mayura would help him?

Narugami couldn't compete with a _detective!_ Was he an ex-boyfriend? Did he and Mayura used to go around to mysterious sites of mystery and try to solve said mysteries? Did they-

He was getting too tense, and too crazy, stressing out about some perfect ghost ex-boyfriend Mayura may or may not have had. This was just stupid.

So, work it out based on what he already had. Clearly, they had all known each other, all been friendly, going by the group photograph, though Narugami wasn't quite sure why he had once been seemingly friendly with someone who Odin must have disliked going by what the Norn had told him. Didn't seem like a way to live a long life, really, even if Odin was his – nah, never mind.

Must have been pre-Ragnarok, presumably, since this new world really wasn't that old...

He was so close, he could tell, fingers itching with his proximity to the truth, and so of course Mayura chose that moment to whip around, brandishing an old dress that Narugami definitely recognised.

"Narugami! You didn't tell me you'd already gone shopping! When did you get this? Just after I told you about the wedding?"

He recognised the dress, he did. He _knew_ he did. It was very, very old-fashioned, dusty and lacy, the sort of thing a princess might have worn, hundreds and hundreds of years ago, made for someone much larger and more muscular than he was. There was no way it could fit him now, he was sure, it was made for someone with the physique of a viking.

A memory hit him right between the eyes.

_There is some sort of gauze over his face, so he can't see quite straight, but enough to know that the old ugly giant sitting right next to him is definitely coming on to him. He just wants to be left alone for long enough to finish his roast oxen, but the giant is reaching out to touch his hand, stroking his hand, making eyes at him, flicking at his veil. "I ain't never seen no lady eat so much," the giant comments in a gravelly voice. "I like it."_

_His hand forms a fist under the table, and he thinks he's chosen his time, but someone next to him in a dress almost as fine as his own leans over and speaks into his ear. "Just a little longer, Thor," the red-haired woman who sounds like a man says, and then she turns to the giant and giggles. "My lady is just so excited about tonight, she's trying to build up as much energy as possible!"_

_The giant grins and he, Thor, God of Thunder, just sits there and punches the red-haired bridesmaid under the table._

_And then, when it's all said and done and he's torn them all apart, back with his Mjollnir once more, the red-haired god slips the dress into his bag and winks. "For sentimental purposes," he says, and Thor has never wanted to kill that damn trickster more._

It happened to Narugami a lot, sudden forgotten memories rising back up again, which is why he brushed it off so easily, shrugging – well, he might as well take the dress, it'll please Mayura, and in situations like that he was'nt too worried about how he comes across, since he had enough confidence inside himself to handle that much embarrassment. He has been around for so long, had so many memories, that the slightest thing can trigger a sudden memory he never realised he lost. Sometimes, just walking outside can set memories off – that apple looks so similar to Idun's apples, _that _painting of a horse…well, horses always make him laugh a little. He was not sure exactly why. A lot of things are like that.

People he couldn't quite recall, events that seem a little unfamiliar. Certain things just trigger certain memories. This new one is already fading again. It hasn't happened in a while, actually, oddly enough, not often since Ragnarok.

Could this one maybe actually have some form of importance? Could it have anything to do with the problem at hand?

What _was_ the problem at hand? What had he been thinking about before that flashback, again?

He's lost it. It's gone, again. It had been so close, too…but he's being distracted, because Mayura was turning around with a suit she had just found and was taking her shirt off to try and see if it fitted, and she seemed to have forgotten that he was sitting right behind her.

Well, no-one in that family was red-haired, anyway.


End file.
